Journal Sequence #11: Remission [Appending]

Suddenly, through the cracks in the asphalt, paving and brickwork: water. It’s raining upwards; the city is crying. Drowning me and everyone like me in its tears. My hair, my clothes, my skin: soaked. My eyelashes beaded with droplets. You can only write when you allow the world outside to slow down, because as it… Continue reading Journal Sequence #11: Remission [Appending]

Flash: Machine in the Corner/Claws

I “But is it really so bad?” I almost leapt out of my seat at the sound of the voice, coarse and familiar like a long lost grandmother. It was, of course, my moon-self (as opposed to my sun-self, which I worship most often). Sun-selves are all about action and light and focus. Moon-selves are… Continue reading Flash: Machine in the Corner/Claws

Journal Sequence #10: Desktop Sunshine [Exit]

Self-indulgence is a dirty word, and yet we are expected to know who we are. Is it feminine to write the personal? Tear everything up, Kafka said in his diary. And I hear him loud. Ash takes my head in his hands. He is naked. I see his tattooed arms and his slick hair. He… Continue reading Journal Sequence #10: Desktop Sunshine [Exit]

Flash Fiction: Metal Box

I’m in a metal box. It’s raining outside, maybe. No one is coming. Not ever. Sleep provides a refuge in which mind becomes one with its habitat. But I must emerge. The jewel is coming. I buzzed her in. Soon she’ll enter between the bars across my window. I selected her from thousands of possibilities.… Continue reading Flash Fiction: Metal Box

Micro Fiction: Cursed

And the world fades away, and I find myself curled up in a nest woven from straw that encloses me all the way around. There’s light coming from somewhere, because I can see. Outside? What’s outside? I’ve a feeling I have never known. A friendly echo, a hum. A message carried upon it that I… Continue reading Micro Fiction: Cursed

Micro Fiction: Elbow

You need the drugs, as it turns out. You need them to make the world shine, to show you it’s more than a three-dimensional dump. You need them so you understand – truly understand – that the fourth dimension is you, your mind. It’s what brings everything to life. It’s what makes a pedestrian crossing… Continue reading Micro Fiction: Elbow

Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]

He hated the spectre-creating machine. It was like the other: wild, rough. It made him sick. But where there is a weapon, man will use it. Where a man hurts, he will seek. Through a tube the egos turned into colours showing their relentless and eternal state of emergency. Humans are perfect green. A green… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #2: Remixing Mind [The Letter M]

Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds

Colour bleeds out, sounds wind down. Muffled, blind. Straight lines, thick and thin, washed in white and grey. It is winter here. Gentle snowflakes fall, though they strike as something sinister. Am I the only one conscious, the only one not a golem made of meat? Playing pieces for cruel gods. This pawn has slipped… Continue reading Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds

Flash Fiction: The Sky Is Turning Black

The sky is turning black. It does this from time to time, only just now it’s more of a concern due to the unprecedented weight it has brought with it. I don’t know what will happen if we get crushed. I call out to Tommy, but he’s floating in the pool of melancholy wearing nothing… Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Sky Is Turning Black

Flash: Something About Connection

I cannot connect. I try, but… Everything going on in my head is just me and I can’t make it also you and that hurts. What I mean is, I can’t describe it [anything] in enough detail that you’ll understand. Dots, lines, purposes. Throughout my life I have tried. But I never could connect. Something… Continue reading Flash: Something About Connection